intermezzo

Intermezzo.

Night in the city, streetlamps too far apart, shadows
between them hinder contact. A cat, is it black,
crosses the street and disappear into a yard,
it’s seen by a sewer rat that waits for thrown away
food to eat outside the burger bar. A lackluster
breeze blows waste paper about, then stops rolls
itself into a ball and goes to sleep under the span of
a bridge. Two hours sleep, and it will be a morning
breeze. The cat, is it black, has fooled the long tailed,
it only to feigned disappearance to lure the rodent
into the open; short struggle, a shudder oscillate
between shadow and light, come to rest as a sight;
motherless rats will be food for bigger ones now, as
night continues its travel towards a new day.